and induce other financial powers in the city to do the same?"
George was serious enough—no doubt of it; yet Mr. Gilman only smiled at the naïve proposal.
"How old are you?" he asked curiously.
"Twenty-two," admitted George, weak enough to be proud of his youth when computed solely in years.
"Hm!" said Mr. Gilman, in surprise. "You talk older."
"Perhaps that's because I've had responsibility and a lot of experience of what you might call small salesmanship."
"What responsibility?" inquired the banker, shrewdly feeling after the answer to those broad yet deeply penetrative questions he had asked a while ago.
George told him—as briefly as possible, yet as fully as necessary to be polite—told him the story of his business experience, the paper routes, the news-stands, the slowly worked-out high school course and his devoted interest in the automobile; also the sound reason why he had selected the Milton Morris vehicle in particular for his most serious business venture. Under the spell of a further cordial interest, he even told about the house he was now building for his father and mother with whom he still lived, and about
